Colors of Callaway

Six years ago today I watched my dog die.  It was a horrible experience that brings me to tears each time I relive it.  Eight months prior to the accident, we adopted a dog from a shelter in Kentucky.  He was driven up to New Hampshire and we drove up to meet him.  He was a mess of mangled fur and stench, but the worst of it was his mental state.  He was only eight months old when we got him, but in his short life, he had already been abused. He was terrified to enter our home and it was a tug of war to get him into the house.  Once in, he would cower in corners and hide under anything he could fit under to get away from us.  It was tragic and incredibly difficult to see the terror in his eyes when we would approach him.  We spent extensive time and money retraining him and he grew to adore us.

 He was highly intelligent, and soon learned how to roll down the window in the car.  His resistance to containment would lead him to jump out of the car window while we were driving and it soon became habit to lock the window mechanism in the car so he couldn't jump out.  He loved other dogs, and when he was out playing with other dogs he was happiest.  He was extremely well behaved outside and off leash and extremely receptive to training in all regards except one.  He became intensely aggressive and protective of us in our home. I believe this was his way of paying us back for saving him..  In some way, he thought by guarding and protecting us, he was keeping us out of harms way., a harms way he was all too familiar with based on his prior situation. Whatever happened to him prior to finding a life with us, drove him to trust few humans, but we were his pack and he was determined to keep us safe. Ultimately, we would have to kennel him if any visitors were coming over and even still, he would growl fiercely and bark upon their entry.  I had young children at the time who were constantly in and out of the house with friends and it became apparent that we would not be able to keep him.



We loved him so we agreed to keep him at our home until they found him another home.  We did our best to continue working with him and keep him active.  One morning while playing with a neighbor's dogs in their yard, Callaway ran just outside the yard.  Another neighbor, driving much too fast hit him.  As he lay unable to move, but still alert, we ran to him.  His eyes locked on mine and I could see his body relax a bit.  He was terrified, as was I, but we quickly scoped him up and put him in the back of a truck and drove to the vet's office.  As we drove on that cool crisp morning, I could see him trying to hang on, glancing my way occasionally, but in far too much shock and pain to stay focused on me.  About half way to the vet's office I could see it was getting tougher and tougher for him. After one last look my way, he closed his eyes, and the life escaped his body.  As he lay in the back of the truck with me and my friend by his side, the mass amounts of blood released from his body and the puddle grew to touch both of us. At that moment, I knew he was gone.  It was heart wrenching and crushing to watch him go, but I am glad I was with him in his last moments.  I truly believe I was his closest friend on this earth.  The short eight months we had him were the best eight months of his short little 16 month life and we gave him the only pleasure he had ever experienced.

He has found another home and as I explained it to my children, this was the only home he could have gone to, that was going to be better than the one home he knew as ours.  I still miss Callaway and think of him often.  Shortly after he died  I wrote this poem about him and I think it sums up his life quite well...

Colors Of Callaway

White with wonder of the newborn snow

Temperamental tan, that comes and goes

Funny freckled feet that bound in play

Black with darkness from his younger days

A regal blond beauty, so meek and mild

Stained with shadings of a life once wild

His off-white streaks, mirror his mind

Chestnut brown eyes, so soft and kind

Pink with innocence, Grey with despair

A spectral of markings, should anyone care

Conflicted in colors, awash with distress

Shining with promise of future success